


This Tiny Love

by starryskeyess



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Dirty Talk, Established Relationship, Filming, Frottage, Light D/s undertones, M/M, Macro/Micro, Multiple Orgasms, Oral Sex, Overstimulation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Praise Kink, Regular sized Shiro, Rimming, Sounding, just a smidge, kind of?, no beta we die like men, tiny keith
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-08
Updated: 2021-01-08
Packaged: 2021-03-12 01:21:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28627176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starryskeyess/pseuds/starryskeyess
Summary: Keith is tiny, shrunken down by an alien animal encounter.  On their flight to the cure, Shiro and Keith spend a night exploring.Shiro lifts his hand reflexively, moving the same way he would any other night, to run loving fingers through Keith’s hair, cup his sharp jaw in the palm of his hand.Except now most of his body will fit in the palm of Shiro’s hand.
Relationships: Keith/Shiro (Voltron)
Comments: 38
Kudos: 186





	This Tiny Love

**Author's Note:**

> This is hands down the kinkiest shit I've ever written, but it's been living rent-free in my head for WEEKS.
> 
> Huge shout out to [Hiro](https://twitter.com/bioplast_hero) for cheering me on, helping me brainstorm, and enabling me to run a little wild with this one <3

Atlas is flying slowly, leisurely, when it intercepts the Black Lion. 

None of their scans had picked up on the lion’s approach, as if it came into existence just within eyesight of the giant craft. Shiro, who would know the image of the lion, of _Keith,_ with his eyes closed, noticed it first. As they get closer, Shiro realizes, Black is floating listlessly, not flying.

And Keith isn’t answering Atlas’s communication requests.

Or at least, they can’t see him. Somebody, some _thing_ connects their video call, but Keith’s nowhere to be found in the video feed flashing bright on Shiro’s screen. The paladin’s seat is empty, supplies and weapons scattered across the floor behind. 

Black glides easily into Atlas’ landing bay, coming to rest on the floor in a tumble of lifeless metal. Shiro’s heart pounds in his throat as he walks slowly into the craft, the soft blue light of his Altean arm glows against the dark. Shiro tries to make objective observations as he goes, his only defense against the fear slowly stealing his breath.

_No blood. Good._

_Keith’s blade is here. Also good._

_His helmet is… cracked._

_Not good._

Black’s engines are quiet and still, and Shiro misses the familiar rumble. Though if it hadn’t been so silent, he might have missed the quiet voice he hears next.

“Shiro! SHIRO!”

The voice sounds familiar, and yet foreign, like something he can almost remember, something at the tip of his brain. He searches for the voice, eyes scanning the room until he sees a small flash of movement, over the controls. Shiro moves closer, and for a moment his brain can’t process what his eyes are telling him is there.

It’s Keith. 

And he’s… _tiny_. He’s still in his paladin armor, minus the helmet. Keith can’t be more than six inches tall, a perfect miniature of the man Shiro loves. His expression is thunderous, something that’s entirely Keith.

“I swear to god, Shiro, if you start laughing,” Keith warns. Somehow he manages to put a threatening edge in voice, quiet and tinny as it is. Shiro nods solemnly, perfectly aware that his laughter is just moments away. His eyes scan Keith for injuries, straining to take in the tiny details of Keith’s body.

“Are you hurt?” Shiro asks. Keith shakes his head, and Shiro feels the tightness in his chest loosen enough for a sigh to whoosh out. “So not hurt, just…”

“Yeah.” 

“Do you want me to, um--” Shiro searches for the right way to offer help, for _any_ words that won’t sound absolutely ridiculous. Keith hangs his head, sighing loud enough for Shiro to hear him.

“Yeah.” 

Shiro lowers his hand, flat with his palm up, so Keith can climb on. He tries to walk slowly, keeping his hand steady as he walks. Keith is jostled anyway, stumbling on wobbling legs, like those of a sailor on his first sea adventure. After a moment he gives up and sits down with a hard thump.

Shiro can see all of the questions on the crew’s faces when they walk past, and he fights the urge to curl his other hand around Keith’s body, and protect him from prying eyes. But Keith doesn’t ask, and Shiro knows better than to give him protection he doesn’t want. 

He calls Coran first. As much as Shiro trusts the paladins, Coran has the knowledge they need, a memory and digital catalogue of alien species across the universe. And to his credit, Coran takes one look at Keith and Shiro can see the lightbulb going off in his head. Coran tells Shiro not to worry, that he and the other paladins have run into this problem before. The story he tells doesn’t make a ton of sense, but Shiro can also admit he’s not paying much attention. His eyes find Keith of their own accord. Coran sends Shiro coordinates for a rendezvous point, where they can meet for the cure.

“What do we do until then?” Shiro asks, sneaking a glance at Keith where he stands on the console. He knows Keith’s pride must hurt, especially when recounting the story of what happened. He was on a simple recon mission, checking a planet at the outer edge of a galaxy for signs of life, or any need for support. He’d been caught by surprise by the animal that had sprayed him, taking a brief rest without his helmet on, and getting back to Black had been a harrowing adventure. 

Shiro feels knocked flat by his gratitude, so unbelievably thankful that Keith is here now, where Shiro can be sure that he’s safe. That is, as long as he doesn’t end up underfoot a distracted Atlas crew member. The ship, normally a place where Shiro feels connected and comfortable, feels like an obstacle course of danger now. He wastes no time getting himself and Keith back to his quarters, and eliminating all risk.

-

Despite the late hour, Keith is buzzing and awake with leftover raw energy. It’s been one of the weirdest days of his life, and now he lays on a pillow opposite Shiro, who truly embodies Atlas now, big enough to hold up the world on his broad shoulders. Rizavi had dropped by hours earlier with food, including some… _interesting_ attempts at miniaturizing foods for Keith. He wasn’t really hungry--maybe having your stomach shrunk to a fraction of its usual size will do that to you, Keith isn’t sure--but he manages a few bites of fruit for Shiro.

He stripped off his armor, leaving it in a small pile on Shiro’s bedside table. It had taken some convincing for Shiro to lay down together--Shiro was insistent that he could crush Keith while he was sleeping. But Keith knows better. Even unconscious, he knows Shiro will keep him safe.

Keith feels so tiny against his pillow, resting lightly against its softness. He’s so light he barely makes a dent in the material. For long moments Shiro seems content to simply lay there, to run his eyes over Keith’s form. Keith feels his gaze like a tender touch, making him shiver against the cool cotton of the pillowcase. 

Shiro lifts his hand reflexively, moving the same way he would any other night, to run loving fingers through Keith’s hair, cup his sharp jaw in the palm of his hand.

Except now most of his _body_ will fit in the palm of Shiro’s hand. 

Shiro realizes the same thing and he stops, his hand hovering in the space between them. Keith lifts his own arm, reaching for Shiro, encouraging the touch with a pleading look. Shiro’s smile is a tiny quirk of the corner of his mouth, secret and soft.

Shiro’s fingers wrap around Keith, not quite touching but warming the air between their skin. He lowers the pad of his thumb to the softness of Keith’s hair, eyes widening at the silky texture. Keith grabs Shiro’s thumb with both hands, holding it in place while he rubs his cheek against it. It’s exploratory at fist, a quick touch. 

Keith gasps as he moves, overtaken by the sensation. He can feel the ridges of Shiro’s fingertip as they rub over his skin, and Shiro’s skin is so _warm._ He nuzzles harder, sighing loudly.

“Oh my god, you are so cute,” Shiro’s laugh is quiet and indulgent, his words pull Keith out of his reverie. 

Keith frowns deeply at Shiro, shaking his head, “Stop it, I am not.” 

Shiro laughs louder, and it’s so _bright_ that Keith can barely maintain his pout. Keith’s view of Shiro is so enhanced, he can see the individual hues of Shiro’s eyes, gold and brown and streaks of silver. His eyelashes are long and dark, sweeping wide arcs through the air with every blink.

“You do realize how hard it is to take you seriously about that,” Shiro says lovingly, “when you’re like six inches tall?”

Keith growls, but it comes out as a weak hum to Shiro’s ears. To Shiro’s credit, he doesn’t laugh again. His gaze is completely enamored, sweeping the lightest touch over Keith’s jaw with his thumb. 

“So tiny. So fierce,” Shiro whispers, his words sliding against Keith like a caress. They should be silly, insulting, even, but they make him burn. _Fierce,_ Keith thinks, turning his head to mouth at Shiro’s thumb. He bites down, his teeth dig into Shiro’s skin, a tiny sting.

Keith can _feel_ more than hear the way Shiro gasps at the bite. From the look on Shiro’s face, it wasn’t a gasp of pain. His other fingers tighten around Keith, cushioned hot and firm against his back. Keith melts at the heat, at how tiny he feels in the curl of Shiro’s hand. 

Shiro’s eyes are molten, gleaming in the low light of his quarters as Keith slowly licks a wet stripe over Shiro’s thumb. He might have felt silly, like a newborn kitten, licking at the fingers of his patient owner. Except Shiro’s looking at him like _that_. 

Keith’s hands roam over Shiro’s skin, as far as he can reach. He rubs and squeezes, running eager fingers over the swell of Shiro’s joints, tracing the tiny scars he’s never been able to feel before. Shiro’s running a finger up and down his back, pressing the zipper of his undersuit against his skin, and Keith shudders at the sensation. He’s teetering on the edge of overwhelmed, in Shiro’s grip like this. 

It’s a testament to his trust in Shiro, the way his heart races, not in fear but in _arousal,_ at the recognition of how dangerous Shiro is to him in this moment. He’s never been handled with such care, such intense attention. Keith’s never felt this treasured, or precious, nor as completely at Shiro’s mercy. He could be crushed by the wrong twitch of Shiro’s muscles. A thrill zips through Keith at the thought.

Shiro’s finger slides down lower, over the compact curve of Keith’s ass, leaving a trail of heat in its wake. Keith rocks back into the touch, almost against his own volition. 

“Keith,” Shiro breathes, and despite everything--despite the fact that Shiro has every scrap of power in this situation--it sounds like a plea.

Keith can’t stop kissing and licking at Shiro’s thumb, tasting the saltiness of his skin that blooms on Keith’s tongue. The taste is brighter like this, headier. Shiro’s thumb slides slowly, carefully, down Keith’s chin to trail over his body. Every sensation is overwhelming, Keith is panting, trembling in Shiro’s grip. He bites back a whimper at the rough glide of Shiro’s finger, rasping against the material of his undersuit as it drags down his stomach, his hip, his thigh. 

The fingers at his back rub gently in tiny circles, one between his shoulder blades and another in the small of his back. The one at his shoulders is catching on something, the ridges of Shiro’s fingerprint tugging at part of the fabric. His zipper. 

“Is this okay?” Shiro asks. Keith meets his eyes, awed by the vastness of Shiro’s irises. He can see his own reflection in the shine of Shiro’s eyes, can see how tiny he is in Shiro’s hand. The thought bowls Keith over, and he nods, not trusting his voice. He knows Shiro sees his gesture from the soft curve of his mouth. Keith can see even the tiniest muscle moving in Shiro’s face--it’s an intimate view into every thought that passes through Shiro’s head. 

He gasps at Shiro’s next touch, a brush of his fingertip that drags the zipper of his undersuit down, just a little. Shiro’s eyes widen, and he applies more pressure, firm touches that continue to pull the zipper down and open his suit, until he’s stroking against Keith’s bare skin. The calluses of Shiro’s fingertips are rough, chafing against the softness of his lower back.

“Keith,” Shiro whispers. His eyes are still wide. His tongue darts out, wetting his mouth, and Keith can’t stop staring at the shine of his lower lip. He’s always loved the softness of Shiro’s lips, the fullness of his lower one, perfect for biting, but now they seem impossibly plush. Shiro speaks again, “Tell me how it feels.” 

A heated blush blooms in Keith’s cheeks at his words. His mouth feels dry; he swallows.

“It’s… intense,” Keith says, and Shiro nods, his gaze glued to Keith’s form, “your fingers are a little rough, but they d-don’t hurt.”

Shiro doesn’t stop his tender touches, up and down Keith’s back. A shiver runs up Keith’s spine, he wants Shiro’s touch _everywhere._

“I can feel everything,” Keith continues, gasping as Shiro’s thumb glances over his cock. It’s hard and straining against the confining material of his undersuit. “Your fingertips, it’s like I can feel every ridge. Your--your hand--” 

Keith stutters, rocking into Shiro’s touch. His thumb, massive against the shape of Keith’s cock, circles it slowly, methodically.

“Keep going.” 

Shiro’s tone is firm, and Keith burns with it. He whimpers, a small, bitten off noise, when Shiro retreats. He feels the loss of Shiro’s touch, and chases it with his hips, but Shiro just smiles, tsking, and shaking his head slightly. Keith swallows around the desperation in his throat. 

“It--it’s so _warm,”_ he says, and Shiro’s touch returns. He presses harder with his thumb, and Keith’s cock throbs at the attention. “So warm.”

“Yeah?”

Keith just nods. He doesn’t look away from Shiro as he raises his arms, sliding out of his undersuit one shoulder at a time. The material pools at his waist, caught at the swell of his hips. Shiro’s thumb slides over his arms, his collarbone. Keith gasps when the touch reaches his nipples; they harden under the ridges of Shiro’s skin. Keith’s whines, unable to form anything resembling words while Shiro takes him apart with a simple touch.

“Shiro,” he pleads, but for what, he’s not sure. It’s too much, and yet he wants so much more.

“I’ve got you baby,” Shiro whispers, his touch sliding to Keith’s hips, tugging gently at the fabric of his undersuit. But Shiro’s fingers are too big, too unwieldy to maneuver the fabric away. Keith slides it down with his own hands, and Shiro gives him enough space to bend down, stripping the suit off until he’s completely naked. 

Shiro’s eyes devour him, and Keith can feel the gaze like a hot caress.

Keith rolls to his back on the pillow, pulling his knees together. He feels vulnerable like this, exposed, and suddenly shy. Shiro doesn’t move, content to watch Keith from where he’s propped on his side, head resting on his Altean arm. 

Shiro’s fingers return, tracing the lines of Keith’s arms, over the tiny swell of his biceps. When they reach his nipples, the sensation is so _much,_ Keith bucks his hips wildly. Shiro trails his finger down Keith’s stomach, through his happy trail, until he’s rubbing his fingertip over Keith’s cock. 

The sensation is different without the barrier of his clothing. Shiro’s touch is gentle but the texture is rough, whirls of ridges that Keith can feel one by one as they slide over him. He’s wet, but it’s not enough to make the slide smooth.

“Shiro, wait,” Keith whimpers, chest heaving. Shiro stops immediately, and concern is painted into every detail of his face. He waits, patiently, while Keith pants. “It’s--it’s too rough.”

“Oh,” Shiro’s gaze is thoughtful, considering. He brings his fingers to his own mouth, slowly, making sure Keith is watching him. His tongue pokes out, shiny and pink, licking his own fingers with deliberate movements, swirling around them until they’re dripping with his spit.

Shiro brings his fingers back to Keith’s aching cock, and this time the slide is _perfect._ Keith groans low and thick at the touch, rutting against Shiro’s finger wildly. Keith’s eyes are squeezed shut against the dim light of the room, his mouth hanging open and panting. 

“Baby,” Shiro’s voice is reverent, but commanding, “Open your eyes for me.”

Keith obeys, and the first thing he sees is how cosmically huge Shiro’s finger looks; wide and blunt-tipped, and his tiny cock makes a dent in the flesh where he thrusts against it. Shiro’s spit is thick, and Keith is wet and sloppy with it.

“Oh--oh,” Keith whines, “Shiro, I--”

“Yeah, baby? Is that better?”

Keith’s hair falls in his eyes as he nods furiously. Shiro’s finger slides lower then, over his sack and between his thighs. Keith’s thighs widen involuntarily at the caress, spreading and inviting Shiro’s touch. Shiro’s finger slides just under Keith, against his hole. The blunt tip feels huge, bigger than anything Keith’s ever experienced. He knows, he knows it _couldn’t_ fit, the digit is as thick as his thigh, but that doesn’t stop Keith from writhing against it.Shiro rubs in slick methodical circles. Keith trembles apart.

Shiro shifts abruptly, hovering over Keith, and the movements jostle Keith and make him sink deeper into the pillow. Keith gasps as the pressure of Shiro’s finger disappears, leaving him feeling empty, adrift. Shiro’s breath rolling over his skin is warm and promises the wetness of his mouth. Shiro sinks slowly, giving Keith a moment to tell him to stop, or wait, but Keith stays silent. He can't take his eyes off of Shiro. Shiro drags the tip of his tongue over Keith’s skin; his ankles, his lean calves, thighs dusted with fine black hair. 

The first pass of Shiro’s tongue over his cock leaves Keith gasping. The texture isn’t like anything he’s ever felt, slick and rough at the same time.

“How does that feel?” Shiro breathes the word onto Keith’s skin, before his tongue returns. 

“It’s--it’s rough too. But--”

Shiro’s tongue slides over him in maddening swirls. Keith sees stars.

“It’s different. B-better, I think--”

“Good.” Shiro hums thoughtfully, and the sound vibrates through Keith.Shiro licks a stripe up Keith’s cock, continuing up his torso. He doesn’t take his eyes off of Keith as he eases his way back down, dragging the underside of his tongue over Keith’s cock. The slide is perfectly smooth, like nothing he’s ever felt.

Keith hears a loud, high pitched keening, and it takes him a moment to realize it’s coming from him. 

_”Keith,”_ Shiro moans, his breath hitching, and then his fingers are at the backs of his knees, pushing them up towards his chest. Keith is bent in half, spread open and vulnerable to Shiro’s gaze.

And his tongue.

Shiro licks at his hole until it’s sopping, the tip of his tongue wriggling against it. It threatens to stretch Keith open, to push into him, but it doesn’t. Shiro just plays, slow and exploratory, looking at Keith through his lashes. Keith cries out, higher and harsher as Shiro laps at him. He’s already hurtling for the edge, too overwhelmed to be embarrassed about coming this soon.

“Shiro, I--I’m--”

A low, almost-growl emanates from Shiro’s throat, buzzing against Keith’s skin. His back arches high off the pillow as he comes, gasping, splattering his stomach. Every drop disappears in one swipe of Shiro’s tongue. Shiro continues licking at him until Keith squirms and whines with oversensitivity. Shiro relents then, propping himself back up his arm. He looks adoringly down at Keith, like he’s something sacred and beautiful.

Keith feels more exposed than ever, under Shiro’s gaze. He’s never felt anything like what just happened. Keith hates feeling helpless, and being only inches tall would make him feel exactly that way, if not for Shiro. If not for the way Shiro knows exactly what he needs. Instead he leans back against the pillow and feels luxurious. Feels perfect.

“I love you,” he whispers, and he’s not even sure if Shiro heard him, but Shiro hums sweetly in response.

“I love you.”

“That was,” Keith searches for the right word, “I didn’t realize that being this small would feel like that. That the feeling would be so… big.” 

Shiro’s eyes are soft, liquid pools of silver that Keith wants to swim in. 

“I think I understand, weirdly enough,” Shiro says, and Keith believes him. He sits up, feeling at least somewhat recovered. He takes in Shiro’s body, and his eyes catch on Shiro’s sweats. More specifically, the damp spot on the front of them. Shiro liked this too. The thought sends pleasure slicing up Keith’s spine.

“Shiro,” Keith says.

“Hmm?”

“Take your clothes off.”

“What?” Shiro’s eyes are wide and surprised. He looks at Keith for a moment, then a soft pink blush blossoms in his cheeks. He ducks his head, and Keith marvels at how his boyfriend manages to be so humble, while also being the sexiest thing he’s laid eyes on.

Shiro stands up, sliding his pants down his legs and stepping out one leg at a time. He reaches behind his neck to pull his shirt off in one fluid motion. His blush descends down into his chest, over luscious pecs that Keith wants to _devour._

“Come back,” Keith says, beckoning Shiro towards the bed. Shiro’s cock, thick and heavy with want, swings with every step. Keith gulps as he watches it, wondering what it would be like to touch, to taste, just like this. 

Shiro lays back and settles against his own pillow. Once he’s settled, Keith gets to his feet. He walks slowly, carefully down the bed, trailing a hand across Shiro’s side as he goes. Shiro’s hip juts sharply upwards, the perfect spot for Keith to dig his hands in, to pull himself up onto Shiro’s body. 

Keith can feel Shiro’s gaze tracking him, it burns with his awareness. But he forgets about it as soon as he lays eyes on Shiro’s cock. It’s perfect up close, emanating heat and leaking thickly onto his stomach. He strides closer, admiring the way Shiro’s veins throb and pulse under his skin, placing his hand over one. Shiro’s cock twitches at the touch. Keith runs his hands over Shiro’s length, stepping lightly across muscles blanketed by soft skin and wiry hair. 

Keith slows when he reaches the tip. His hands move deliberately, pressing into Shiro with more intent. He’s enraptured by the velvety texture, the heady scent that swirls around him. Shiro’s cock is drooping with its own weight, the head bobbing level with Keith’s collarbone. Keith can hear the heavy rasp of Shiro’s breath, harsh and uneven, and Keith has barely touched him. The thought is intoxicating.

Precum drips from Shiro, and Keith swipes a hand through it. Keith smears it around the head, using both hands. He leans forward, until he can lick a long stripe over Shiro’s slit.

“Keith--” Shiro groans between gasps. The sound just emboldens Keith, he licks at where the precome has dripped down the skin of Shiro’s head. Shiro jerks hard under the attention.

“Settle down,” Keith admonishes, laughing softly. Shiro’s hand is balled into a fist where it rests next to his hip. Keith loves Shiro’s iron-clad control; he loves doing what he can to strip it away, too. Shiros’ trembling at the invasive touch of Keith’s tongue, the way it laves flatly over his slit before the tip wiggles and digs in. Keith’s hands rove, squeezing steadily at the head, sliding under the edge of it where he knows Shiro is extra sensitive.

“Fuck, Keith,” Shiro grits out.

Every desperate noise Shiro makes is a deep hum against Keith’s skin. He bucks hard when Keith groans his own satisfaction, and Keith almost loses his footing. He stumbles, feet sliding in precome that has splashed down over them.

“Easy there big guy,” Keith tells him, twisting to look up at Shiro’s face. HIs expression is strained, his eyes burning. The _want_ in his gaze only grows at Keith’s words.

“You look so good,” Shiro whispers darkly, “So tiny playing with my cock.” Keith is set ablaze by his words. They’re so fond, and yet, he finds himself writhing with something hot and slicing. Something that makes him turn away from Shiro’s gaze. Keith’s fingers return to playing with Shiro’s slit, tipping one, then two, into the opening. Pre coats his hands until they’re shiny with it. 

Shiro’s cock bobs again, twitching up and dipping low. Keith aches, he’s already hard again and his cock begs for attention. He presses both hands against Shiro’s head, pressing down until he can rut against it, sliding through the slick. His tip catches on Shiro’s slit, and Keith’s hips stutter. He is stunned with the realization that he could probably thrust forward, push inside of Shiro in a manner more intimate than anything he’s ever experienced. 

_Fuck._

Keith doesn’t push though. He waits, hit by waves and waves of desire that crash over him. He can’t stop the tiny twitches of his hips, hisses escaping his mouth at each one.

“Baby,” Shiro whispers. His thumb strokes down Keith’s back in soothing lines. “I want--please, I think I--I-”

Shiro’s next touch is more insistent, a firm press of his thumb against Keith’s ass. It pushes him forward until the head of his cock finds Shiro’s slit. Keith can barely breathe as he lets Shiro push him farther, lets himself sink into the potent heat. 

“Shiro…?” Keith’s voice is thin and reedy to his own ears. He’s lightheaded, watching Shiro gush around his thrusts. 

“It’s--it’s good, baby,” Shiro moans, letting Keith set a rhythm. “Fuck, it’s just--”

“Just what?”

“It’s just _a lot_.”

Shiro babbles as Keith fucks into him, cooing praise and encouragement and nonsense. His thrusts are steady, firm; he watches his entire length disappear into Shiro’s body. Shiro’s inner walls are hot and slick, and soon Keith’s thighs are coated. Shiro is the hottest thing he’s ever felt. Keith’s hips stutter and he realizes just how close he is to coming again. With a herculean effort, he pulls back, chest heaving.

“Wait--please, baby, don’t stop,” Shiro’s begging him, but Keith is already moving. He strides to the base of Shiro’s cock, climbing up and straddling it where it lies against Shiro’s stomach. Keith’s weight makes it dip, just low enough that his toes drag against Shiro’s abs. Keith tries to climb higher, squeezing with arms and thighs, but he’s too slick.

Shiro’s left hand wraps around him, supporting Keith’s weight. Keith is trapped between Shiro’s throbbing cock and the calloused warmth of his hand. He reaches for the head, wrapping his arms around it and pulling himself up. Shiro’s grip moves with him. Keith’s little tongue laps at Shiro’s tip; what are thick, wet stripes to Keith must feel like tiny kitten licks to Shiro.

“Keith, ah--” Shiro’s eyes are a little wild as he watches Keith writhe against his cock. Keith’s hands don’t quite meet when Keith wraps his arms around Shiro’s width. The thought is dizzying. Shiro continues, hips twitching, “Fuck, you look so sexy there.”

“Really?”

“God yes. So gorgeous, so--”Shiro grunts, fingers tightening their hold on Keith’s body, “So small. Fuck.”

Keith blossoms at the praise, whimpering. His cheeks burn when he says, “I--! want to see.” 

“Yeah baby?”

“Please,” he whines, nodding furiously.

Shiro’s altean arm whirs to life where it had been laying on the bed, practically forgotten. It hovers and glides through the air, plucking Shiro’s tablet from his bedside table. He turns the camera feature on, holding the device where he can watch both Keith and the screen as it records. He groans low while his eyes devour the image on the screen. Shiro abandons the pretense of letting Keith rut against him, gripping Keith’s body firmly and moving him. It’s gentle at first, a subtle grind, but with Keith’s encouragement, he moves faster, harder. 

Keith can feel himself floating, overstimulated and used. Shiro fucks against Keith’s body like he’s a toy for Shiro’s pleasure. It’s a heady feeling, trust and adrenaline and overwhelming friction. 

“Look at you,” Shiro whispers, insistent. Keith’s eyes had drifted shut as he ground down, but he opens them to see the camera and tablet have been flipped, the front-facing lens capturing Keith sandwiched between Shiro’s cock and fingers. The screen shows him in life-size clarity. Keith is a mess, covered in spit and pre-cum, his skin flushed pink. His hair is tangled and falling around his shoulders in wild waves. 

“Do you see yourself, baby?” Shiro coos, his voice is low and filthy, “See how tiny and pretty you look wrapped around my cock?”

Keith shudders at his words. He is tiny. Shiro’s cock dwarfs him, fat and throbbing. Keith swallows, hard, around the desire choking him.

“It’s your cock that looks pretty. It’s perfect,” Keith says, “So--so big, so gorgeous.”

_”Baby.”_

Shiro moves him harder now, his thighs trembling. Keith’s tiny cock is caught between his body and Shiro, rutting against the sensitive spot just below Shiro’s head. Keith knows he’s close, he can feel it in the uneven, aborted thrusts of Shiro’s pelvis, the hitching in his breath. Shiro comes all over his stomach, gasping Keith’s name, and splattering him with tiny droplets. Keith swipes a hand through it, wrapping it around himself and thrusting frantically. 

Keith comes so hard he whites out, shouting Shiro’s name. His own come is a tiny splash in the pool of Shiro’s. When he floats back to awareness, his eyes find the camera, still held still in Shiro’s metal fingers. He doesn’t look away as he licks his fingers clean. The taste is much stronger like this, salty and sweet. Shiro whimpers, watching the display with pleading eyes.

Keith tries to climb down on legs of jelly, but he stumbles at his first step. Shiro’s quick thinking keeps Keith from falling flat on his face, catching him with a finger around his chest. 

“Wait,” Shiro says, looking down at Keith with concern. He continues, “Please, let me take care of you.”

Keith feels bashful suddenly, fighting the urge to hide. 

“Can you,” the words come out raspy. He swallows hard, and tries again,“Can you put me on your chest?”

Shiro’s gaze is endlessly soft. He scoops Keith up gently, setting him on his feet over Shiro’s sternum. Keith lays down over Shiro’s heart, curling up against his heated skin. Shiro’s heart feels like a small earthquake, like the crashing waves of the ocean against a rocky beach. The steady thumping is a soothing rhythm, lulling Keith into semi-consciousness. He’s not sure how long they lay like that, he must drift off into sleep because the next thing he knows, he’s laying on Shiro’s pillow while Shiro’s fingers rub a warm, wet cloth over his skin. Shiro works slowly, carefully, cleaning Keith with such tenderness it almost hurts. 

Shiro leaves, returning with another piece of neatly cut fabric for Keith, and fresh clothes on himself. He offers Keith the fabric as a blanket, draping it over his naked body. It’s a simple cotton, soft and warm from Shiro’s grip. It even smells of him, Keith realizes, breathing in deeply.

“What is this?” Keith asks, as Shiro burrows under his own blankets, laying on his side next to Keith.

“Just a piece of a shirt,” Shiro murmurs, looking away guiltily.

“Which shirt?”

“The dark purple one,” Shiro answers, yawning. Disappointment and aching adoration war within Keith.

“But that one is my favorite,” Keith frowns.

“That’s why I cut it up for you,” Shiro’s eyes are fluttering closed, his muscles growing lax with sleep. Keith just stares at him a moment, dumbfounded. Never mind that Keith likes the shirt _on_ Shiro, loves the way the color looks against his skin and the soft white of his hair, and the way it hugs Shiro’s shape. The tender gesture is even better.

“Come here,” Keith asks, meeting Shiro’s surprised eyes with a smile, and a beckoning of fingers. 

Shiro shifts closer, but he’s still outside of Keith’s reach. Keith beckons more; Shiro moves. He’s still too far away, and Keith huffs in impatience.

“Damn it Shiro, get over here,” he demands, but there’s no heat to it. Shiro chuffs and finally crowds into Keith’s space. Keith takes Shiro’s nose in both of his hands, pressing a firm kiss to the tip. 

“I love you,” he whispers. Shiro’s answering smile is a work of art, all the beauty of sunrise held in full lips and delicious dimples. Keith falls asleep just like that, pillowed in softness, breathing in Shiro's scent. 

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know if I missed any tags!!! Chat with me on [Twitter!](https://twitter.com/starryskeyes)


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